


Is it too late for apologies?

by BrightestSun



Series: Au Yea August [5]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: AU Yeah AUgust (Miraculous Ladybug), Fluff, Gen, I suck at tagging, Laundromat, Poetry, apologizing, but also you look terrible, but also you should have apologized years ago but you didn't, but also you were writing this really crappy poetry, idk - Freeform, just me?, that awkward moment when you run into someone who has every right to hate you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-22 08:14:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15577608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrightestSun/pseuds/BrightestSun
Summary: Sabrina left Chloé's side awhile ago, but the wounds both on herself and others still linger. One night when Sabrina's writing some poetry at a laundromat she runs into Juleka. The shame of having locked the poor girl in a bathroom so many years ago wells up in her, but how do you apologize for something that happened so long ago?AU Yea August 5 - LaundromatI don't think i've ever read a laundromat fic, but to me, writing poetry while waiting alone at a laundromat is just very zen.





	Is it too late for apologies?

The familiar rumbling of the washer kicking into gear filled the small Laundromat. Sabrina smiled as her boots pounded together on top of the powerful machine, sending echoes of leather thumbs out into the empty room.

She loved coming to clean her clothes in the middle of the night, there was something calming about having a large wide space all to herself. It was vastly better than sitting at home feeling like a loser.

She twirled her pen between her fingers, contemplating how if she spend as much time learning how to spin her pen like a baton, as she did on actually writing, she’d have finished a novel and a half by now.

She reread the paragraph she was stuck on for the hundredth time, she knew where she was going but every time she tried getting to it she ended up regretting ever thinking that she could become an author.

She sighed, realizing she wasn’t going to make any headway on her main work, opting instead to get at least some writing done. Her pen bled out onto the page with useless prose.

                  _Washing Machine washing  
_ _Mechanical servant  
_ _My slave without judging  
_ _No life, no dreams_

_A life full of service  
_ _The life of worker-bees  
_ _Slave to your mercy  
_ _No life, no dreams_

Sabrina groaned, mentally filing the poem under useless Chloé angst. At least it felt nice to see words flow onto the page, even if it was existential, repetitive angst.

She smiled to herself, wondering how she managed to follow around someone like Chloé so blindly for so long. Breaking away had been hard, but ultimately she’d learned that it was better to be alone than to be with someone toxic.

                  _Toxic  
_ _Addictive to me  
_ _Impossible  
_ _To ever break free_

_Toxic  
_ _Your words to me  
_ _Hatred  
_ _Will you set me free_

_Toxic  
_ _You leave only me  
_ _Lonely  
_ _But finally free_

She wondered if there was an audience for “a thousand salty poems about how Chloé f*ing sucks”. Possibly, especially with how Chloé managed to be the sole reason for at least half of Paris’ akumatizations.

Still, she didn’t want to be known for hatred and regret, she wanted to move on and make something that felt bright and hopeful. Not petty and repetitive.

Sabrina almost fell down from her vantage point on the machines as the door opened to her oasis. What kind of loser needed to wash their clothes at 2 am aside from her!?

Sabrina gasped as she locked eyes with the new patron, clad in black and much shorter haired than when last Sabrina saw her, Juleka looked amazing as she entered the Laundromat with a trash bag full of clothes.

Juleka was sporting a buzzed haircut with a fairly small purple patch of long flowing hair rolling down to frame her face similarly to before. She wore a semi-large black dress with purple details, see-through leggings, and army boots.

The look was super goth but as always Juleka looked killer in it. Sabrina became intimately aware of her once white t-shirt over her braless top, her loose pajama pants with red patches still dotting the crotch, her messy red hair barely tamed in a bun, her large and ugly brown boots.

She didn’t want anyone to see her looking like this, but especially not Juleka, the only girl whose akumatization was wholly Sabrina’s fault. The way she locked Juleka in the bathroom so she’d miss getting her picture taken was so awful that she still got a knot in her stomach just remembering it.

She swallowed hard as Juleka and her locked eyes for a moment, Juleka looking through her, clearly recognizing her, but choosing to ignore her existence. The beautiful Goth walked past her and started working the machines.

It was evident from the two machines she chose to use, that she and Rose were still going strong. One machine was filled with colorful frilly clothes with mostly pinks, while the other was filled with mostly black.

Sabrina Couldn’t help but smile to herself, Chloé never believed in their relationship, saying they were only together for attention. Sabrina was glad that she’d been wrong, the two were so amazing together, and the way they supported one another in spite of, or perhaps because of their differences was so inspiring. If Sabrina could find love even half as sweet as theirs, she’d be happy.

Still, the awkwardness of seeing Juleka after all these years was slowly creeping into every corner of Sabrina’s being. She slid her feet back, her knees meeting her chest, curling up into a tiny ball, hoping she could just disappear from the little Laundromat.

She shivered, remembering the time she actually did disappear, the pain of being akumatized still stung into her soul whenever she wanted to be invisible. That was what she’d done to Juleka. She bit her lip, she wanted to cry.

Sabrina looked at the door, maybe she could leave until her clothes were done; wander the streets like a hobo in the hopes of meeting no one. Looking outside into the cold dark November night she realized she’d freeze to death if she ran around out there for longer than a few minutes. She cursed herself for deciding to wash her jacket as well.

When Sabrina’s gaze returned to Juleka, she found herself locking eyes with the purple haired woman. Juleka looked away, pretending not to have been staring at her. She didn’t look happy, she must be as unhappy to see Sabrina as she’d expected her to be. It cut a dagger into her stomach to know how hated she was by a person who was so kind and understanding.

Sabrina felt her thoughts twist, wondering if she could be forgiven if it was possible to even begin to redeem herself. She felt the pen burning in her grasp.

                  _There are a thousand ways to say it  
_ _But is there a way to be heard?  
_ _I can only hope you’ll forgive me  
_ _I know I’ve caused you such hurt_

_I know I can never make up for it  
_ _The things that I’ve done  
_ _But I’d like to try if you’ll let me  
_ _I understand if you just want me gone_

_I have to try and say it  
_ _The thing that can be said a thousand ways  
_ _I know you don’t need to forgive me  
_ _But I’ll be sorry for all my days_

Sabrina looked down at the page in frustration, there was no way she’d ever be able to make it up to Juleka, but this kind of vapid self-indulgent semi-artistic circlejerk was beyond the worst way to do it.

She hated herself for even trying to do it this way, but more so for failing so badly at making something that meaningfully at least conveyed how she felt. It was stupid, even given hundredth pages she’d never be able to express a sentiment that made her worthy of forgiveness.

Sabrina felt like she was going to start crying if she didn’t collect herself. Looking down at the page one last time she couldn’t remember the last time she’d made something she hated more. She felt the paper under her palm, ripping it out of the book.

She took a deep breath, it felt nice destroying it, it helped her stop the feeling of self-loathing a little bit. She threw the barely crumbled paper towards the trash can, freezing in place as her poor throw caught wind and landed against Juleka’s boot.

Sabrina’s ears rang with silent alarm, her senses overwhelmed with panic. Juleka reached down curiously and picked up the paper, beginning to unwrap it.

“It’s uh… Trash, don’t… Read…” Sabrina tried sheepishly, but it was too late. Juleka’s eyes quickly scanned the short page.

Sabrina swallowed as Juleka’s eyes found hers, and Sabrina felt like she truly understood what they meant when they described feeling like a deer in headlights.

Sabrina didn’t remember exiting the Laundromat, but she remembered feeling extremely cold as she walked through the streets. She remembered having needed to escape from the Laundromat and then nothing, then cold.

She remembered swallowing her pride and walking into a snoozing dive bar where she was happy to find almost no people, and certainly no one who knew her. She remembered drinking a little bit, then a little bit more.

She remembered looking at the time and knowing Juleka had to have left by now, returning to her once peaceful oasis, knowing she’d likely have to find another place where her mind could be still since this place was now tainted by awfulness.

She remembered a note on her machine.

 

_There’s no perfect apology_

_But it seems to me_

_that it’s less than a great move_

_To try one, then flee_

 

_It’s been a long time since everything happened_

_I can see you’re different now_

_I’d like to know the new you_

_Maybe Sunday for some chow?_

 

\-        _Juleka_

 _PS._ _I’m not a poet_

_PPS. Sunday, dinner at 18, bring flowers for Rose (not roses)._

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> There's a scene in Life As Told By Ginger where we see her in the future in a laundromat, writing in a notebook and the image has just stuck with me, wanted to do something like that. Try to capture that feeling of zen and just, young adult life. this story is probably the most self-indulgent thing I've written, but I hope it resonates with some of you.


End file.
